Chapter 20 — Refugees and Bandits (6)
A few days later.
A cargo wagon was traveling down the main road from Marcel Territory toward Ronalphe Territory.
Only two people were riding it—a wolf beastman driver and a tall human merchant.
Several large barrels of alcohol were tied down in the cargo bed.
“Stop.”
A group of bandits appeared in front of the wagon.
“Bandits! Run!”
The driver shouted, jumped down from the wagon, and fled at full speed.
Since he was a wolf beastman, he was so fast that the bandits did not even consider chasing him.
“Whoa, that bastard’s insanely fast. But he just abandoned his companion and ran. What a disloyal bastard.”
The tall merchant, now left alone on the wagon, approached them while bowing repeatedly.
“Oh dear, honorable bandits—no, righteous outlaws! I’m afraid I don’t have any toll money. What am I supposed to do? Could I perhaps pay you later? I need to sell that liquor before I can collect any money.”
The bandits began snickering.
“You lanky bastard. You think we’re idiots? Search him completely. For every copper we find, give him ten lashes.”
“I really don’t have any cash.”
One of the bandits approached and searched the merchant’s body.
“Boss, this bastard really doesn’t have a damn thing.”
“Tch. Can’t be helped. We’ll take the goods and sell them instead. Boys, bring the wagon.”
The bandits brought over their own wagon, apparently intending to take several barrels of liquor.
“Oh, no! You can’t sell this! Absolutely not! This liquor is a masterpiece that took months of blood, sweat, and effort to make! The moment you drink it, a refreshing chill rushes through your mouth. First comes the savory, slightly bitter taste of barley, followed by sharp, sparkling bubbles! I even removed the harsh bitterness, so there’s none of that rough feeling on your tongue! It goes down incredibly smoothly, and the heavy oak aroma lingering in your mouth will leave you completely entranced! I absolutely cannot give it away!”
“......”
Gulp.
The bandits seemed interested by the merchant’s passionate description.
They licked their lips and swallowed.
Seeing that, the merchant quickly added another line.
“If you insist, then I’ll offer it to your boss! A fine liquor like this shouldn’t be sold just anywhere!”
“What? You insolent bastard.”
One bandit raised his hand to smack the merchant across the mouth, but another stopped him.
“Leave him. He’s right. There’s no point selling liquor that good. We should drink it ourselves.”
“Yes, boss.”
The bandit being called boss glared at the merchant and made a suggestion.
“But you might’ve poisoned the liquor. Drink some first.”
“Poison such sacred liquor?! What kind of absolute scum would do something like that?!”
As he shouted indignantly, the merchant opened one of the barrels.
At once, the rich aroma of roasted barley spread through the air.
Gulp.
The bandits swallowed again.
The merchant smirked, grabbed a wooden dipper, scooped up some liquor, and began drinking.
Gulp, gulp, gulp.
“Ahhh! That’s the stuff!”
He opened the other barrels one after another and drank a full dipper from each.
The bandits silently watched him.
“Looks like there’s no poison. We’ll take the barrels to the boss.”
“Please make sure you tell me what he thinks afterward. I’m planning to advertise this in Ronalphe, y’know. Whoa... my tongue’s gettin’ all twisted.”
The merchant staggered slightly, as if already drunk.
“Hehehe. Sure. I’ll make sure to ask the boss.”
The bandits loaded the large liquor barrels onto the wagon they had brought and disappeared.
The merchant remained behind, watching them leave with a smile.
The next morning.
“Ugh...”
A man covered in thick body hair woke up.
He was the leader of the bandits.
Perhaps because he had drunk far too much during last night’s drinking party, his mind was completely foggy.
Morning sunlight streamed through the window and hurt his eyes.
He grimaced and muttered to himself.
“Ugh, my head... What the hell kind of liquor did those idiots bring?”
He grabbed his throbbing head and tried to stand.
But he couldn’t control his body and immediately collapsed again.
It felt as though everything below his waist had been paralyzed.
Splat.
“Ugh! What’s that smell? What the hell is this?”
He had fallen straight into a disgusting puddle of filth and bodily waste.
His companions were lying unconscious all around him.
“Hey! Wake up! Something’s wrong!”
Still lying on the floor, he shook the others desperately.
Then he noticed something strange.
His companions were sleeping like corpses.
“Damn it! Why aren’t you waking up?!”
He abandoned them and crawled across the floor toward the wide courtyard.
What he saw outside only made the situation even stranger.
His companions were unconscious everywhere.
Not a single person was moving.
“Damn it! What the hell happened...? Why won’t anyone wake up?!”
He began moving again.
Whoever had caused this would probably arrive soon.
If he remained here, his life would be in danger.
“Huff... huff...”
His entire body reeked of filth.
He had probably been hit with some kind of sleeping drug or paralytic poison.
There was no sensation below his waist.
On top of that, even the slightest movement left him gasping for breath.
He continued crawling desperately.
His clothes scraped against the ground and tore apart, while small wounds appeared all over his body.
But he had no time to care about such things.
First, he had to escape.
He could worry about treatment afterward.
After several exhausting minutes of crawling, he finally reached the entrance of the mountain hideout.
If he could just get through this gate, he could use the moat to reach the stream and escape.
He pushed desperately against the closed gate.
It didn’t move at all.
He tried to activate his aura, but there was no response.
His mana core did not seem to be functioning.
“Damn it! Open! Please, just open! Ughhh!”
The bandit leader pushed against the gate with all his strength.
Then a voice came from outside.
“Open sesame.”
“Huh? Why are you asking for sesame?”
“I said open the door.”
Creeeeak.
The gate opened.
Two people appeared before the bandit leader.
“Oh? One of them is moving?”
“That hairy bastard is the leader.”
The newcomers were a tall man and a wolf beastman.
The tall man looked down blankly at the bandit leader leaning against the gate.
Appraisal.
[Hugo Senov (36 years old)]
[Son of Yasin, Knight of Besançon.]
“This bastard’s a knight too.”
The bandit leader flinched in surprise.
“H-How?”
“You don’t need to know.”
I looked down at him.
“You’re a slave now too.”
“A slave?”
“You became a bandit, so shouldn’t you pay for what you did? Work hard enough and maybe you’ll eventually become a better person.”
Raul tied up the bandit leader and dragged him back inside the hideout.
A short while later, Martin, Axel, the knights, the soldiers, and dozens of slaves arrived.
They had brought several dozen wagons to transport the captured bandits and collect the spoils.
Knight Commander Axel walked around giving instructions.
“Do not remove your gloves under any circumstances. If your hands get injured, the poison could paralyze you. Work slowly and carefully.”
The slave foreman approached and asked,
“My lord, what should we do with those bastards? How long are they going to sleep?”
“They’ll wake up before the sun reaches its highest point. Tie their hands and feet before then.”
Every bandit here would receive a slave brand.
Depending on the severity of their crimes, they would be sentenced to forced labor for anywhere from ten years to life.
We also obtained an enormous amount of loot from the hideout.
They were even storing negotiable certificates of deposit and high-value bond certificates.
I held the documents like a fan and whistled.
“Whew—these bastards are rich.”
Martin clenched his fist angrily.
“To think all of this came from the blood and sweat of the territory’s people... It makes my blood boil.”
They had probably robbed people on both sides, so some of it likely belonged to residents of Ronalphe Territory as well.
I comforted the overly righteous Martin.
“We’ll use this money to relocate the refugees, so in the end, it’ll go back to the territory’s people. Calm down.”
Martin glared at the bound bandit leader.
Apparently, he wanted somewhere to vent his anger.
“How can a knight not feel ashamed of becoming a bandit?!”
“...At the moment, I’m more ashamed that I’ve soiled my trousers.”
The poison had paralyzed more than half his body.
That included certain muscles responsible for keeping things closed.
As a result, filth continued leaking out of him without stopping.
His condition was so miserable that even Martin couldn’t bring himself to punch him.
“Ahem. Anyway, reflect on your actions.”
“But how did you know that I’m a knight?”
I glanced around.
It would be troublesome if anyone overheard this.
For now, it would be better if no one knew that Dijon Territory had interfered with our territory.
I repeated exactly what I had learned through [Low-Rank Appraisal].
I wanted to show him that I possessed superior information and use that advantage to gain his cooperation.
“Hugo Senov. Thirty-six years old. Son of Yasin, Knight of Besançon.”
“My word... You actually know that? Did you plant spies in Dijon? Just how highly placed are they?”
Unlike the previous men, this knight named Hugo did not seem particularly interested in hiding anything.
If things went well, I might be able to extract useful information from him.
“They hold a fairly high position. You don’t need to know the details. Just answer my questions properly.”
“You already seem to know everything. What exactly are you planning to ask?”
I crouched down so that my eyes would be level with Hugo’s—
Then immediately moved farther away because of the smell.
“Ahem.”
“What is Dijon trying to accomplish in our territory? There’s no way they planted knights here merely to rob people.”
“I don’t know the details either. But will you spare my life?”
“Work as a slave for ten years. After that, I’ll set you free.”
“Ten years is far too long, isn’t it? I’ll tell you everything I know, so shorten it a little.”
What kind of knight was this?
Loyalty was supposed to be one of the most important principles drilled into someone during a knight’s education.
Yet this bastard looked ready to answer everything before I had even finished asking.
Martin, who was listening nearby, apparently didn’t like Hugo’s attitude.
He shouted angrily.
“You bastard! How can a knight have such a loose tongue?!”
“Uh... Should I just keep my mouth shut, then?”
The absurd exchange made me laugh.
“Martin, step away for a moment. I’ll interrogate him myself.”
“Can I stay quite far away? He smells terrible.”
“Do whatever you want.”
Soon, only Hugo and I remained.
The smell was enough to rot my nose, but the closest knight to me was acting like that, so I had no choice but to handle this myself.
“All right. Tell me in detail how you ended up here.”
“Very well. Hmm. It was around ten years ago, right after I had just gotten married in Besançon—”
“No, no. Not that far back. Start from when you caused trouble and were disciplined afterward.”
If I let him continue freely, he looked ready to talk all day.
People like this had to be stopped quickly.
“Haha. That is the most embarrassing part of the story. When I came out of the Countess’s chambers—”
Wait.
I definitely needed to hear this part.
“Hold on. Start from when you entered the Countess’s chambers. And explain it in as much detail as possible.”
“This is rather embarrassing. Anyway, I was drunk when I opened the Countess’s door and entered—”
For the next ten whole minutes, Hugo gave us an extremely detailed description of a scene that was very much for adults only.
After finally finishing that story, he moved on to the part about his punishment.
At some point, Martin had returned and sat beside me to listen.
When the story ended, he sighed as though disappointed.
“Anyway, my lord went mad and tried to have me executed. But the Count’s eldest son—Janis, who is now the young lord of Dijon Territory—said he would spare me if I handled a certain task for him.”
“Do you know what that task was and why he wanted it done?”
“The task was to create chaos in Marcel Territory, but I couldn’t understand why. Why should a knight be forced to do something that goes against chivalry? So I questioned the young lord.”
Sir Hugo briefly glanced around.
His mouth must have been dry because he swallowed before continuing.
“Then the young lord said, ‘Someone like you doesn’t need to know.’ After that, he quietly muttered, ‘Now Westphalen will become my land.’ He probably thought I couldn’t hear him, but a knight’s senses aren’t so easily fooled.”
That was unexpected.
Dijon’s real target wasn’t Marcel Territory.
It was Westphalen Territory.
So destabilizing Marcel was meant to place a burden on Westphalen.
The poorer Marcel became, the more money Westphalen would eventually be forced to repay on its behalf.
Their goal was to drain Westphalen’s budget and prevent it from expanding its military or strengthening its influence.
That must also be why they married Dijon Count’s daughter to Young Lord Noah.
If both Count Michael and Young Lord Noah were killed, the right of succession would pass to Noah’s child.
They must have planned to install a puppet lord.
If Dijon swallowed Westphalen, there was no need to wonder where they would turn next.
Naturally, they would reach out toward Marcel as well.
Damn it.
Why was all of this happening?
Was it because the Franche royal family had suppressed wars between territories so strictly that the lords’ ambitions had been forced to find other outlets?
Those lunatics. They’re like bloodthirsty demons starving for blood.
Fortunately, I still had plenty of time.
Contrary to Dijon’s expectations, Young Lord Noah Westphalen still had no children.
On top of that, Westphalen had abandoned Marcel Territory, meaning that starting next year, they would have considerably more room in their budget.
Even so, this wasn’t something I could simply ignore.
For now, I need to develop the territory.
Everything else comes afterward.
As soon as I returned to the lord’s castle, I would begin by relocating the refugees.
After that, I would increase the territory’s productive capacity even further.
We needed surplus goods before we could trade, and only then could other industries begin developing as well.
After organizing my thoughts, I called for Knight Commander Axel.
“Sir Axel! We’re heading back as soon as the work is finished! Hurry it up!”
Soon, wagon after wagon loaded with captured bandits and loot rolled out of the mountain hideout.
Before leaving completely, we set fire to the piles of oil-soaked firewood that had been placed throughout the compound.
The flames quickly spread.
Before long, the entire bandit hideout was swallowed by one enormous blaze.
Watching the flames rise behind us, our group hurried back toward the lord’s castle.
